


Military Issue

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-21
Updated: 2006-07-21
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: This is an episode tag for season three's Maternal Instinct. What happened when Daniel went back into the temple to get his shoes?





	Military Issue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.  


* * *

“Daniel.”

“Yeah.”

“Shoes.”

Oh yeah. Shoes. It would be a long walk back to the Stargate without something on his feet. Daniel was pretty sure it was going to be a long walk anyway. Shoes. Where had he put his shoes? They must be in the temple. He turned and walked back into the building, his bare feet on the marble floor making a faint slap in the still air. He stopped a few feet inside the door. The silence of the temple after the tension of the last few hours was both a shock and a relief. The day had gone on far too long and Daniel was tired. For the last hour they’d been barely one step ahead of Apothis’ Jaffa. Now the Jaffa were gone--not just gone, dead, all of them As a matter of fact, it was a little hard to believe that they were all safe--Aphothis’ forces were gone, and so were Oma Desala and the boy. 

He shook his head trying to clear his foggy brain when without warning memories of the past few hours came rushing back. He remembered that Jack had stayed and waited for him even when the Jaffa demanded their surrender. That was a little hard to believe. He remembered that the Jaffa had marched into the courtyard pointing staff weapons and demanding their surrender. That was a little hard to believe too. And he remembered that when the Jaffa started shooting, killing the monk and threatening Teal’c, and Sam, and Bra’tac, and Jack, he was afraid they were all going to die. But they were still alive. That was even harder to believe. All things considered, he couldn’t quite believe he was still alive to question his beliefs one way or another. It took him a minute to realize that he had been holding his breath. He exhaled gently and heard even that small noise echo in the silence.

The memories receded as he felt the marble under his feet. What was he doing here? Oh yeah, shoes. He walked hesitantly to the center of the room and looked around. The marble floor felt cold and hard on his bare feet; the quiet room was dark and far too empty. Daniel knew the monk wasn’t here anymore, nor was the child, Sha’re’s child. Again the memories surrounded him, this time more intensely. With a gasp he watched as Jack dropped his weapon in front of a group of very angry Jaffa; he watched as the energy from a staff blast wrapped around Bra’tac and Teal’c leaving them untouched; he watched as the Gould were struck down by some force of nature; he watched as Oma Desala took the boy and left. She took the boy and left.

The vision left Daniel almost breathless. “What have I done?” he asked and heard another echo in the stillness. 

“What have I done?” he asked again very softly. 

There was no answer. He didn’t expected one. 

He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, momentarily stunned by what he’d done—or rather not done. He hadn’t acted quickly enough, hadn’t thought fast enough. There was no changing it now. He could feel the adrenalin rush leave him. Now he just felt tired. He knew he needed to find his shoes and catch up with Jack and the others before they got too far ahead of him but the silence held him still. He shook his head again trying to focus on the task that had brought him back to the temple. Looking around he couldn’t see his shoes but at the moment he wasn’t entirely sure his eyes were focusing properly. 

He felt himself drawn to the temple wall, the wall that before had let him pass to find the boy. In a few steps he was standing by it. He reached out his hand to touch it knowing this time it would be solid. Just in case, he reached out gingerly and placed his palm softly on the surface. Yep, solid. Too bad. He let out a soft sigh and ran his hands over the symbols on the wall. What was it he’d told Jack? The instructions were here on the wall? He shook his head smiling at his own arrogance. How had he thought he had the power to light candles or move objects around the room with his mind? Jack was certainly going to give him grief about it when he found out the truth. Well, Jack always gave him grief and Daniel figured he already knew the truth.

He pressed his hand against the wall one more time, just to be sure it was real and solid, and then drew it back. The wall felt cold like the floor, like the fuzziness in his head. From his feet up through his body all the way to his fingertips, he felt the cold creep in. It felt like the cold had seeped into his very soul and for a moment, he was enveloped by the emptiness of the room, an emptiness that even more than the memories threatened to overwhelm him. How could he have just let the child go?

He lifted his hands one more time, drew them up in front of his face knowing they were empty. He remembered the boy in his arms. When Sha’re’s son had reached up his hand to grab the air in front of him, he’d found a hold and wrapped his fingers around a piece of Daniel’s shirt. Daniel was amazed at the strength in the little hand. He’d been equally amazed at his own strength as he’d held the boy in his arms. He knew he could shield and protect this child. He knew he could find a place in his heart for this child. He remembered the sweet face looking at him and again felt the warmth of the little body curled up against his chest. Now his hands, his arms, were cold and empty, so empty. They dropped heavily to his sides. He knew nothing.

He needed to sit down—now. The floor came up quickly to meet him and he found himself sitting on the edge of the sand where he and the monk had practiced what Jack called “parlor tricks.” To be more precise, Daniel had practiced and the monk had spoken in unanswerable riddles. If you immediately know the candlelight is fire…. Still don’t know what that means Daniel thought. He absently rubbed his fingers together remembering the burn he’d felt after he’d put his hand in the flame. Why did he do it? _Because you trusted._ Yeah, right. Trusted in what, Daniel wondered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel noticed his black boots on the floor beside him. Well, finally. He’d found what he was looking for. His boots were right where he’d left them many long hours ago, his socks still sticking out the top. He picked up his socks and put them back on. Next the boots. His hands felt the softness of the leather. Not shoes, he realized, boots. Sturdy, shiny, military issue black boots. Daniel’s hands dropped to his lap, and for a moment, his head fell to his chest and his eyes closed tightly. The military issue boots, like his black T-shirt, his green fatigues, and his utility vest, were all part of who he was now. The monk had walked around in a robe with bare feet, bare feet that never made a sound even in the deafening silence of the temple. A stray thought floated through Daniel’s brain. _I wonder if his feet ever got cold._

Daniel opened his eyes and saw his toes wiggle in his socks. He couldn’t reach for his boots just yet. He wasn’t ready to go back to that life, the life defined by military issue boots. He’d spent a brief, wonderful moment imagining himself as a father. He’d held Sha’re’s child, a little boy with a gentle smile and his mother’s eyes, and imagined himself fulfilling his promise to Sha’re, caring for her son, loving him for her sake, loving this living reminder of all that he’d lost. When Daniel had looked into the eyes of the little boy, he could see another life in front of him. Now it wasn’t to be. The military issue black boots waited for him to put them on, to return to a life of regulations and order, a life without his child. Now the boy was gone through the Stargate to who knew where. Even if he wanted to, it was too late to change his mind and take the child back to earth. How could he have even considered giving up Sha’re’s son? 

He shut his eyes tightly for a moment feeling the panic well up inside him. It was too much to take in. Again the memories surged around him--the monk on the steps falling to the blast of a staff weapon, the teltacs soaring overhead, the presence of danger, the static in the air--Jack if you’re ever going to trust me on anything, now is the time, the storm clouds filling the sky, the lightening bolts coursing around them. He saw the brilliant form of Oma Desala leave the temple. _I’ll see both of you again someday, right?_ No answer, just the wispy touch of a hand on his cheek. Then she and the boy were gone. _Breathe Jackson, just breathe. It’s done. It’s over._

A moment later Daniel was back in control. Well, maybe not in control but at least he wasn’t going to run out of the building screaming--yet. Think of something else. He looked behind him to see the sand spread out cold and still like the room itself. Once it had held the heat of the flames he’d created. No, not him, someone else, someone with power, someone who had taken his son away. 

To distract himself, he raked his fingers through the thick sand, feeling the soft grittiness of it push against his fingers. It reminded him of home, of Abydos, and Kasuf, and Skaara. And Sha’re. Daniel flattened his hand to press his palm against the sand, looking for the warmth of the flames, the warmth of the desert sun. Nothing. Sha’re loved the desert. He remembered her bare feet pushing the sand away as she walked through it, the little ripples of sand filling in her footprints. Even after a year, she could sneak up behind him and he would never know she was there until he felt her arms around him. He almost felt her chin pressed against his shoulder, almost felt her laughter as she whispered nonsense in his ear, almost felt himself turn around to take her in his arms. She was beautiful in the desert. As he thought about his wife, he realized he’d never seen Sha’re hold her child. She would be beautiful walking across the sand holding her son, their son. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to push away the memories. No, not even memories, he realized, longings, imaginings, pieces of a life that could never be. _Enough. This isn’t helping._ It was time to move. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and saw the boots were still there. But not one pair of boots, two. For a moment, he thought he was seeing double. Then he realized the other pair of boots was backwards. Someone must be standing in front of him.

“Jack?” There was no answer. Daniel thought about reaching out to see if the boots were real but decided instead to look up. 

“You okay?” Jack’s voice was quiet as if he didn’t want to intrude on Daniel’s grief. 

Daniel couldn’t help but notice the difference. A few hours ago Jack had been his usual loud and obnoxious self. Now Daniel could see the stillness--and the worry--in Jack’s eyes. He sensed that Jack had been standing there awhile, not wanting to disturb him. How does he know Daniel wondered? And then it came to him. Because Jack’s a father too. Daniel looked back down at the floor.

“I let him go, Jack.”

“I know.”

“I can’t get him back.”

“I know.”

Daniel let one last handful of sand run through his fingers, then reached over to pick up a boot. He slammed his foot into the opening, hauled the other boot over and did the same. He grabbed the laces and pulled hard, the anger bubbling up inside him, the tears just behind his eyes. Tears for what, Daniel thought. Not for the boy. _The boy is safe, like I promised. Better off with Oma Desala. No, for me. One more person gone, one more opportunity wasted. One more damn thing wrong in my life. My son is gone._ Suddenly, he felt the strain in his hands as the laces cut into his fingers. For a minute, he thought the laces would break. He took a deep breath and willed his hands to stop. He took another breath and released it slowly, thinking of what the monk had taught him about concentration and control. And trust. The anger drained away. Not the pain, Daniel noticed, which still gnawed inside him, not the cold which chilled him to the core, but the anger was gone. He’d done what was best for the child. His loss was his own to deal with.

Now his hands moved slowly and deliberately. He carefully threaded the laces through the grommets, pulled the laces tight, and tied them at the top. Jack’s boots were still in front of him, the leather spit-polished and shiny, Jack’s black military issue boots. Daniel looked up again to see a hand in front of him offering to help him up. He put his hand on Jack’s arm and felt Jack’s hand wrap around his elbow and pull. Daniel was on his feet again. He felt the warmth of Jack’s hand. It didn’t touch the pain or the cold, but the warmth was there, nonetheless. Just before he let go, he felt the pressure of Jack’s hand. 

“Let’s go home,” Jack said softly. 

Daniel nodded slightly taking a last look at the marble floor, the gritty sand, the too solid walls. He turned to see Jack watching him. “Yeah,” he sighed, “it’s time to go home.”


End file.
